adktyler
Active member
Ok, so I’m back. I apologize for my absence (not that anyone really cares all that much ;-) As many of you know, I disappeared over the summer to guide canoe and kayak trips in Minnesota. Upon my return, I hiked the Trap Dike on Colden, finished the ADK Fire Tower Challenge, and Hiked the Indian Pass trail up Marshall. However, my external hard drive crashed soon after the Fire Tower Challenge completion, thus loosing every single photo and video I have ever taken. All my forum pictures, all of my summer job videos, everything was lost. I guess it is my fault for having all of my hundreds of gigs of memories in one place, but it was still disappointing. That occurrence pretty much killed my desire to write any trip reports for awhile, and I sort of dropped out for awhile, merely reading a few trip reports here and there. Additionally, school has been very, very busy this semester, so I haven’t had as much free computer time as usual.
But moping time is over! It’s time to get back into these wonderful online hiking worlds and re-connect with old friends as we begin this winter hiking season. I’m not going to write about this summer, or about the Fire Tower Challenge, or Mt. Marshall. The first is irrelevant, and later two were uneventful trips. However, the Trap Dike, back on August 23rd (my 21st birthday), was exciting and enjoyable, and re-kindled my love for the Adirondacks! If you care to read, here is the story:
Ricky and I met at the parking lot of the ADK Loj, bouncy as kids in free candy store (those are totally real, by the way). We were finally getting back into the mountains, after a child-bearing summer for him (thus restraining him to his home), and a flat-as-a-Frisbee wilderness summer for me (thus causing me to forget that rises above a 1,500 ft. rolling hill exist). The forecast called for rain, which had been coming down quite consistently for several days preceding our hiking date. However, it was sunny and warm as we began our jog, and within 20 minutes we were at Marcy Dam, eating some cheese and catching some rays.
After a quick break, we set out once again, bound for Avalanche Lake. On the way, we ran into a shinning summit steward. She delightfully interrogated us as to our destination and means of acquiring this goal. We happily obliged, and articulated our intentions. A grave look befell her. She explained that the rain had caused the Dike to evolve into a variable torrent, and that the waterfall would most certainly sweep us away to our death in the murky waters below. We appreciatively thanked her for the expert counsel, and assured her that if it were too dangerous we would gladly take a different route (we meant take a different route up the Dike, but omitting this actual statement set her mind at ease). With a farewell and salutation, we proceeded on our way.
Soon we were gawking at the grandeur of the glorious Avalanche Pass. The depth of peace and tranquility that pierced my sole transcends my ability to express in the written word. I felt as though I had finally returned to my native habitat, and it reassured the extent of how much I missed the Adirondacks over the summer. I’m slightly surprised that Ricky didn’t push me off a cliff after the umpteenth time of me saying 'I LOVE being back here, we’re in the ADIRONDACKS!'
After hiking about 1/3 of the way around the lake, we decided that we didn’t want to walk all the way around the lake. It was dumb to do so, and much too far. So, we decided to swim directly across to the base of the Dike! I had worn my swimming suit as a new experiment to reduce chaffing, so all I had to do was take my shirt and shoes off, and hold by backpack above water as I swam. Ricky, in his true summer fashion, was wearing all cotton, so his task was a bit more challenging. He eventually sufficed to build a makeshift raft out of downed birch and pine branches, and placed his backpack on this to keep it dry. All of my gear was in a dry bag inside my pack, so after recognizing that I was not strong enough to keep my pack out of the water (this realization arrived within 5 seconds of me jumping into the water), I decided to simply drag it though the water, laughing all the while. When we both arrived on the other side of the lake, we just began to laugh hysterically. We were totally nuts. Who does stuff like that? I have no clue. I’m pretty confident that 95% of the hiking community is smarter than us, though. But they certainly don’t have as much out-of-the-box fun.
After drying off, having a snack, and falling into several raspberry brambles, we arrived at the base of the Dike, and could hear the 'roar' of the falls. Thus began the climb, the epic climb that so many of you have completed before; the fabulous climb that I read about from many, many people this summer. It was all that I hoped…and more. The water was crystal clear, the views were more breathtaking with each glance back, the crux was every bit as heart-stopping as I hoped, and the moss was greener than the richest rainforest in Brazil. This most certainly falls into the category of my top 5 favorite climbs in the Adirondacks, and I realized that I have barley begun my voyage though Adirondack slides. Even though it was certainly very, very wet…and we succeeded in becoming totally drenched, it was a blast.
Upon transcended the necessary length of the Dike, our focus turned to 'The Exit.' I had researched it, looked at pictures of it, received advice about it, and still messed it up. I was looking for a curvy tree, a weird rock, a significant break in the southern head wall, a cairn, a heard path, and all of these things at the same time. Well, just so you know, there are several of these things, all occurring in different places, and all quite confusing. I finally decided to quit stressing about it, and we just came out, vowing to each other that we wouldn’t climb something that we couldn’t descend just as easily. It was fine, we had no problems, and our worries were unnecessary. Within 15 minutes we were out on the main slide, scrambling up towards the summit!
As we climbed the ostentatious slide, it began to drizzle. It was a warm drizzle, however, so we found it rather refreshing. Low layers of mist drifted across the sky in small clumps below us, and the lack of wind was of relief. After reveling in every single second and every single step, we finally arrived at the summit of Colden. It was warm, serene, beautiful, and larger-than-life. The peaceful silence brought ethereal feelings of perfect serenity. I was back home, back where we belonged, and it was a harmonious feeling that regenerated my vest for life, and re-kindled my passion for the inimitable wilderness that we call the Adirondack Mountains.
Below are some pictures, taken by me and Ricky, from his Facebook page.
But moping time is over! It’s time to get back into these wonderful online hiking worlds and re-connect with old friends as we begin this winter hiking season. I’m not going to write about this summer, or about the Fire Tower Challenge, or Mt. Marshall. The first is irrelevant, and later two were uneventful trips. However, the Trap Dike, back on August 23rd (my 21st birthday), was exciting and enjoyable, and re-kindled my love for the Adirondacks! If you care to read, here is the story:
Ricky and I met at the parking lot of the ADK Loj, bouncy as kids in free candy store (those are totally real, by the way). We were finally getting back into the mountains, after a child-bearing summer for him (thus restraining him to his home), and a flat-as-a-Frisbee wilderness summer for me (thus causing me to forget that rises above a 1,500 ft. rolling hill exist). The forecast called for rain, which had been coming down quite consistently for several days preceding our hiking date. However, it was sunny and warm as we began our jog, and within 20 minutes we were at Marcy Dam, eating some cheese and catching some rays.
After a quick break, we set out once again, bound for Avalanche Lake. On the way, we ran into a shinning summit steward. She delightfully interrogated us as to our destination and means of acquiring this goal. We happily obliged, and articulated our intentions. A grave look befell her. She explained that the rain had caused the Dike to evolve into a variable torrent, and that the waterfall would most certainly sweep us away to our death in the murky waters below. We appreciatively thanked her for the expert counsel, and assured her that if it were too dangerous we would gladly take a different route (we meant take a different route up the Dike, but omitting this actual statement set her mind at ease). With a farewell and salutation, we proceeded on our way.
Soon we were gawking at the grandeur of the glorious Avalanche Pass. The depth of peace and tranquility that pierced my sole transcends my ability to express in the written word. I felt as though I had finally returned to my native habitat, and it reassured the extent of how much I missed the Adirondacks over the summer. I’m slightly surprised that Ricky didn’t push me off a cliff after the umpteenth time of me saying 'I LOVE being back here, we’re in the ADIRONDACKS!'
After hiking about 1/3 of the way around the lake, we decided that we didn’t want to walk all the way around the lake. It was dumb to do so, and much too far. So, we decided to swim directly across to the base of the Dike! I had worn my swimming suit as a new experiment to reduce chaffing, so all I had to do was take my shirt and shoes off, and hold by backpack above water as I swam. Ricky, in his true summer fashion, was wearing all cotton, so his task was a bit more challenging. He eventually sufficed to build a makeshift raft out of downed birch and pine branches, and placed his backpack on this to keep it dry. All of my gear was in a dry bag inside my pack, so after recognizing that I was not strong enough to keep my pack out of the water (this realization arrived within 5 seconds of me jumping into the water), I decided to simply drag it though the water, laughing all the while. When we both arrived on the other side of the lake, we just began to laugh hysterically. We were totally nuts. Who does stuff like that? I have no clue. I’m pretty confident that 95% of the hiking community is smarter than us, though. But they certainly don’t have as much out-of-the-box fun.
After drying off, having a snack, and falling into several raspberry brambles, we arrived at the base of the Dike, and could hear the 'roar' of the falls. Thus began the climb, the epic climb that so many of you have completed before; the fabulous climb that I read about from many, many people this summer. It was all that I hoped…and more. The water was crystal clear, the views were more breathtaking with each glance back, the crux was every bit as heart-stopping as I hoped, and the moss was greener than the richest rainforest in Brazil. This most certainly falls into the category of my top 5 favorite climbs in the Adirondacks, and I realized that I have barley begun my voyage though Adirondack slides. Even though it was certainly very, very wet…and we succeeded in becoming totally drenched, it was a blast.
Upon transcended the necessary length of the Dike, our focus turned to 'The Exit.' I had researched it, looked at pictures of it, received advice about it, and still messed it up. I was looking for a curvy tree, a weird rock, a significant break in the southern head wall, a cairn, a heard path, and all of these things at the same time. Well, just so you know, there are several of these things, all occurring in different places, and all quite confusing. I finally decided to quit stressing about it, and we just came out, vowing to each other that we wouldn’t climb something that we couldn’t descend just as easily. It was fine, we had no problems, and our worries were unnecessary. Within 15 minutes we were out on the main slide, scrambling up towards the summit!
As we climbed the ostentatious slide, it began to drizzle. It was a warm drizzle, however, so we found it rather refreshing. Low layers of mist drifted across the sky in small clumps below us, and the lack of wind was of relief. After reveling in every single second and every single step, we finally arrived at the summit of Colden. It was warm, serene, beautiful, and larger-than-life. The peaceful silence brought ethereal feelings of perfect serenity. I was back home, back where we belonged, and it was a harmonious feeling that regenerated my vest for life, and re-kindled my passion for the inimitable wilderness that we call the Adirondack Mountains.
Below are some pictures, taken by me and Ricky, from his Facebook page.
Last edited:
